We were dying for a holiday . . . The six of us arrived on that beautiful Greek island dreaming of sun-drenched beaches and blood orange sunsets, ready to lose ourselves in the wild freedom of a weekend away with friends. On the first night we swam under a blanket of stars. On the second night the games began on our clifftop terrace. On the third night the idyll cracked, secrets and lies whispering on the breeze. And by the final night there was a body on the rocks below . . . Who would kill for it?